A New World
by DahlPhace
Summary: Gemma loves the game Skyrim, but she tries to have a life, too! What happens when one missed night of fun brings her world to life in a new way?
1. A New Beginning

Summary: Gemma loves the game Skyrim, but she tries to have a life too! What happens when the world she loves becomes too real to handle?

Rating: Rated T-M for Sexual dialogue/themes, suggestive dialogue/themes, drug references, drinking references, violence, gore, adult language and plain bad taste.

**Smut/Lemon** in **later chapters**. **_Around _Chapter 8** is when I plan for such frivolous things. Teehee! Also, this is a **f/m story**. _**No Yaoi**_ to be found here. Sorry. I have nothing against it I just don't find it as tantalizing as some. Of course, leaning towards lesbian **I will include f/f**. Hate me if you like; it's just how I feel. **For those that find this offensive**: I will put warnings before the chapters where any such act is found, be it heterosexual or homosexual in nature.

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Long line breaks mean a skip forward to a different time. This saves me from boring readers that just like to get to the point and may not find heavy reading as enjoyable as others. Also, I tend to ramble on and on about random stuff when inspiration hits me This helps prevent that. At least a little bit

Plot: OCxRalof, Hadvar, Marcurio, Nazeem, Sorex Vinius, Onmund, Vorstag, Benor, Farkas, Vilkas, Ulfric, Naziir, Dovahkiin/M, Bolgruff, Brynjolf, Lucien Lechance, Mercer Fey + random npcs BECAUSE I AM GOD. xD

Catagory: Romance, Action, Adventure, Angst, Humor, Crack, Horror, Violent, Comedy, Drama

THIS STORY HAS EVERYTHING 8'3

Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim or anything that Bethesda has rights to. I only own the idea for this story and the idea behind my characters and the interaction with Bethesda's character's within this story.

SLIGHT OOCness with some characters, just to make it fit. If it doesn't you have permission to whip me! Now, excuse me while I change my pants...

So here's the story n_n

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A New Beginning

Gemma stared idly at her television. Boredom consumed her. She stretched across her bed, thrusting her arms and legs apart and opposite of each other until her muscles tingled and relaxed; sending ecstasy throughout her body. She sighed and rolled over onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "Why does life have to suck?" she asked rhetorically while placing her hands behind her head. Her silky, red hair contrasted with the white, lacy duvet cover. It was then that her cell phone began to ring; playing a personal tone she assigned to her friend Anastasia. She smiled as she listened to the tone for a second, not wanting to interrupt one of her favorite songs.

"Hey!" she answered the phone cheerfully. They were supposed to hang out later tonight and go dancing.

"Hey." Came a sweet sounding voice from the other end of the call; she didn't sound as chipper as normal. This worried Gemma, but she pushed it to the back of her head and hoped that Ana wasn't cancelling their club night.

"Hey, um, you know how we had plans tonight?" Ana's tone was cautious. It was obvious she felt bad about what she was saying.

"What about it?" Gemma was guarded now, she knew it was coming.

"My work called me and I'm not going to be able to make it." she said sadly. Gemma's heart sank; her day had been so bad she was really looking forward to dancing it away at the clubs tonight. But she knew it was out of Ana's control, and kept her temper in check.

"That sucks." She said, trying to not sound as begrudged as she was.

"Yeah," Ana responded, unsure of what else she could say. Gemma realized she had been a little snippy, and even though Ana would understand it wasn't aimed at her, she didn't want to act that way toward her best friend.

"Oh well." She said; hoping it was convincing. "Are we still on for Saturday?"

"Definitely," Ana's smile could be heard through her voice, which in return made Gemma smile.

"Cool. I'll see you then"

"'Kay. Bye!"

"Bye!" Gemma said cheerfully before hanging up. She had sat up when she heard the phone ring and was sitting Indian-style on her bed. But the impact of cancelled plans left her feeling heavy, and she fell back against the fluffy lace of her down-duvet cover.

"Well, at least Skyrim love me…" She said; grabbing her controller. She might as well distract herself from her cancelled plans by killing things and stealing an assortment of random objects in-game. She turned on her desktop and loaded Skyrim.

After nearly 2 hours of using mods to create the perfect character and think of a good background, she was finally ready to play. It was dark outside and she could hear the rain start to pour against the window panes of her house. Gemma was already working on her 3rd Guinness before the lightening started. She hated being alone during storms, but since she had already drank a bit and was distracted then her mind shouldn't wander to that fearful corner of her brain. Still, there was something about being alone, in an empty house devoid of furniture that felt... off to her.

She loaded a new game and was on the pause screen when the electricity went out. Her eyes went wide from surprise.

"Oh, God. No!" She cried out as the light from her monitor and desktop died. She lost any progress with her character and information she had laid out. She was enraged, getting ready to throw her empty Guinness bottles against the walls; she picked one up and drew her hand back, not caring where it broke, only that it shattered. But before she had a chance her desktop turned back on, with the Skyrim load screen intact. She had the bottle upside down and tilted where the top was aligned with her forearm. Confused at the reappearance of the main title screen, she didn't notice the beer running down her arm as she approached the desktop, curious as to what happened.

It was in that moment that lightening flashed and thunder followed immediately after it. The combination of blinding light and sound shocked her and she let out a high-pitched "Yeep!" before she dropped the Guinness bottle on her keyboard. Her face turned red.

"DIE!" She screeched in an off-tone and cracked voice; frustration and rage dripping unto her yowl as she picked up her keyboard. But the keyboard short-circuited and sparks were flying out from every electrical item in the room. Before she could react, a spark shot from her keyboard in the form of an icy-blue electric current and made contact with her arms. The muscles in her body contracted with a ferocity she had only heard of; devoid of self control and influenced by the spasm. The strength from said contraction caused her to fly back against the wall. The last thing she remembered seeing before the blacking out was the shape of a round hole in front of her computer screen. If she didn't know any better, she would've said it was a portal. But that was silly... right?

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She could hear birds chirping and a whispering creek. The ground beneath her was soft and cold with frail but pointy leaves spaced out underneath her. Her sight went from black to red as she realized that the sun was in her face and she was seeing through her eyelids. She groaned as she struggled to open her eyes. The sun was low in the sky and it looked like it was still early morning. "What the fuck happened last night?" She asked to no one in particular. She tried to sit up, and found that doing so was extremely difficult, like someone had sapped her of her energy and turned her muscles into thick chunks of jell-o. She saw up with her legs sprawled out in front of her and took in her surroundings. Wherever she was, it was beautiful. There were tall pines as far as the eye could see. Mountains, creeks and rivers wound around the countryside, not to mention the beautiful flowers that sprouted up at random just made the nature seem surreal.

'How much did I drink last night?' she thought to herself as she attempted to get on her hands and knees. She needed to gather herself.

But her time reflect was cut short. She could hear some commotion coming from a distance behind the foliage of where one would expect a creek to be. Curiosity was about to get the best of her, when she saw someone dressed in what looked like medieval clothes running toward her like their life depended on it.

"-The fuck?" Disbelief in her voice.

"Run!" The man screamed. It was then that she realized there were men on horses behind him, chasing after him and clad in red and leather armor. Her eyes widened and she did her best to run despite her physical state.

"This. Is. Not. Happening!" She huffed between breaths as she forced her muscles to take stride. She was running surprisingly faster than normal, but it was no use. The horsemen caught up with her and the man running.

"Hold it! Stop in the name of the Empire!" Called one of the horsemen as he aimed his bow at Gemma. The other horsemen dismounted and held a sword at each of their throats. "Time to get what you deserve horse thief." Chuckled one of the men as he bound the man's hands.

"Oh, this is so not happening to me. Not now. Oh, God." Gemma was in shock.

"Quiet, wench! You're going to meet the same fate as your accomplice." The same soldier grabbed her roughly and bound her wrists.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! I don't even know this guy! What are you talking about?" She pleaded, but her words fell on deaf ears. They tied another, thicker rope to a saddle and then tied the other end to both Gemma and the other man's bonds.

"This is bullshit! What the fuck are you guys doing in these getups, anyway? I did not sign up for any role play groups so if you could just let me go, I won't sue your ass." She was not entertained by the idea of nerds playing dress up and dragging her into it. There was a time and place for everything, and hers was renaissance festivals, anime cons and in private.

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you. But it would be a shame to bloody such a pretty face. So do us both a favor and keep it to yourself." It was the soldier whom had the connecting rope from his saddle to her wrists. She rolled her eyes.

"Ew. I have standards, you know." She was beyond furious at this point, and her aggressive side was coming out. But this only made the soldier speed up his horse to force them to walk a tiresome pace.

"Hey, since you're busy making friends, maybe you should tell him his manhood is the size a Juniper berry, he should really like that." The man whom was tied next to her retorted facetiously.

"Wait. 'Juniper berry?' But that means…" But Gemma didn't get to finish her sentence. The patience of the soldiers wore out and one of them had taken out his sword. He hit them both over the head with the hilt. Gemma blacked out once more.

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Cliffhanger! :D

This is just the pre-chapter explaining a few things. Lemme know whatchu tink~! ;D


	2. The Capture

Nothing too big happening in this chapter. Just the execution (or lack thereof since there ain't much of killing before the dragon U.U)

Gore/voilence, adult languange and graphic detail to follow the next couple of chapters

The Capture

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Sound was the first sense that returned to Gemma. The branches of tall pine trees swayed gently in the wind, clapping of horseshoes hitting their hooves against rock and dirt and the rustling of crisp leaves; gracefully dancing across the ground. Scent came next. It smelled like Christmas time; the air was cold and nipped at her nose in an almost stinging sensation, like a crisp refrigerator with spring water and exotic spices. It was pleasant at first, until more potent odors came into range. She could smell dried blood, metal, sweat and wood. It was making her sick. Next came the feeling of movement. The movement was much like that of a hay ride; not smooth like a car. As even more consiousness rose from its dormant sleep; she realized she wasn't laying still. Slowly, her world came into view as her eyes blinked open, and she took in her scenery a second time.

"What the hell is going on…?" She murmured sleepily.

"So, you've finally come to?" Asked an exotic male voice. One she recognized to be Ralof. 'I must be in a coma, or something. There's no way three Guinness could cause this, though. What happened to me?' Gemma was about to answer, when she heard a response that shouldn't have come.

"Don't bother asking him anything. He won't answer." She didn't recognize this voice and looked over to see it came from a soldier. 'This isn't what's supposed to happen…' She looked over toward the man in question and saw one of her male characters she made for Skyrim. He was a Nord, medium length blond hair, light blue eyes, tall and built. He was bound just the same as she was. His eyes looked harshly at the soldier who answered Ralof in place of him.

"A Nord can speak for himself, imperial." Ralof retorted. But the soldier didn't respond and just kept walking as if Ralof had never said anything. Ralof looked over at the man.

"What say you? How did you get caught up in this mess?" Ralof directed toward the Nord once more.

"I was trying to pass into Cyrodil." He replied. His voice was deep and exotic, and like most Nord men; gruff and low. It reminded her of Brynjolf's voice, except deeper and slightly more gritty.

"Guess the General was correct to assume you would take the side of a sympathizer. But, not to worry: you'll be sent where you belong soon enough." The same soldier laughed coldly. It was obvious that he assumed if you weren't for the Imperial Army: you were against it.

"Wait. You're a Stormcloak and he's a sympathizer? What's with the girl and gagged guy?" Came the familiar voice of Lokir.

"I don't know about the girl. But you best watch your tongue! That is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the True High King of Skyrim!" Ralof was angry at the disrespect shown toward his leader.

"Wait. You mean the leader of the rebellion? Oh, Gods! If he's here then where are they taking us?" Lokir's voice resonated with panic.

"I don't know, horse thief. But Sovngarde awaits." Ralof was resolute in his faith, his voice expressing serene acceptance.

It wasn't long before they made it to Helgen. The in-game graphics and map didn't do the details and amount of people here justice. Not only were there several poorly made shacks around the outskirts of the city, but the size and population weren't canon either. She watched in silent awe as the cart slowly rolled past the residencies. She couldn't help but feel a sick feeling in her gut. Part of what made Helgen's destruction okay for her was the size and population of it. But it would seem, for whatever reason, Helgen was now five times bigger than the game had portrayed. The smell of hay, manure and wood burning flared up her nostrils. She had already detected hints of these smells before they passed through the gate, and now that they were headed further into the city it only got worse. She suspected it was due to the dense population and obvious need for more supplies. Needless to say the people she saw just standing around, some unsightly, looked like the beggers from The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion. Had she accidentely activaited these mods for her game and didn't remember? This question only led to others, like: "Am I trapped in-game through some kind of portal leap? If so, how?", "Am I in a coma?", "How did I get in a coma?", "Am I sleeping?" and the like. She eventually just got tired of thinking about it. She would figure it out later.

Gemma was so deep in her fascination of the detail and her fixation on the amount of people - rather: mer and man- living in the city, that she missed the last few dialogues between Lokir and Ralof. It took the abrupt halt of the cart for her to realize where she was. The faces of men and women condemned to die surrounded her; some of them solemn and serene, others contorted in pain or anguish, possibly from a life they deemed ending too short. But these faces weren't the only ones amongst them with a passionate opinion on the war. Others that made Helgen their home had seen the soldiers return and came outside to find the cause of so much commotion. Gemma could only watch the mixed emotions from onlookers as she and her fellow prisoners climbed off the cart and started to line up in an unordered fashion.

Another odd, non-canon happening proceeded. The list of names normally called before her character creation option was quite lengthy. And it took a good half hour for Hadvar to get through the list of Stormcloak prisoners.

Finally, it was down to Gemma and the Dragonborn character she created.

"As for you two… Who are you?"

The Nord Dragonborn's stare was icy, his deep voice grumbled "Eirikur. From Windhelm"

Eirikur's response earned a silent recognition from Hadvar before he turned his pale eyes on Gemma. "And you?"

Gemma was about to respond when she realized that she didn't have to say her real name.

"Aodis."

"Captain, neither of them are on the list. What should we do?" Asked Hadvar. Gemma glared daggers at the captain. She never liked her, and this just reinforced it. Whether this world was real or her delusional state of mind was uncertain, but the distaste she had for the imperial woman was real.

"They both go to the block." Captain Rikke answered with a resolute tone and left no question that her decision was final.

"By your orders, captain." Hadvar answered, his eyes momentarily downcast before he turned back to look at the group of mix-matched soldiers before him. "As I call your name, head over to the block."

Gemma had to struggle to keep her disdain for this woman to a minimum. She honestly understood the loyalty Rikke must have to the empire, but her idea of loyalty and Rikke's were both completely different. Gemma, for one, would never condemn the innocent to die in a war only to chalk it up to collateral damage.

The sky was starting to get dark, and the sun that brought life and warmth to the planet Nirn was beginning to fall; allowing the frosty winter's touch to begin it's assault on those unprepared for such a harsh mistress. She guessed the temperature was around 45 degrees Fahrenheit, which was enough to make her shiver in her itchy burlap sack clothes; the kind typically handed out to prisoners and beggers.

Lokir had already been shot with an arrow to the back. The scene of Lokir dying was a little more graphic than when you view it through a screen. She could hear the archers pulling back their bows; the string tightening and reaching its elastic limit limit before releasing with a high-pitch, but almost silent, 'swishing' noise. Her heart dropped slightly at the sound of one of the arrows piercing Lokir's flesh, her heart startied racing and pounding in her throat when shewitnessed Lokir drop dead with a 'thud' to the ground. Gemma now waited patiently, trying to avoid going into chock, for what was sure to be her fake death, which she assumed would wake her up. A death in this state of mind still proved to be scary for her. She prayed silently to no one in particular as she awaited her turn, hoping she'd wake up. Unless, of course, her mind decides that she's going to live. But she didn't think so. Usually when she dreams, if there's a point where a situation can get bad: it does. She readied herself for her coma death. Steeling herself and staring at the ropes that held her wrists together; she counted all the tiny strands of threading that were intertwined with its structure. It seemed almost funny to her. Even when she didn't think any of this was real, her mind and body were reaction involuntarily to the situation. She was shaking, from the cold wind embracing her every crevice, magnifying the feeling of foreboding she had been so desperately trying to keep at bay. Her throat was dry and hoarse from the cold and arid climate, her anxiety only made it worse as her throat began to tighten at the thought of approaching the filthy, disease ridden block that would claim her 'life'. She steeled herself the best she could, the best she was capable of.

"Eirikur, of Windhelm." Hadvar called out.

'Hm. That's strange.' Gemma thought to herself. She was starting to worry that dreams inside a coma are like real life, and that she's at the mercy of her mind.

Eirikur walked slowly to the block. His russet clothes clinging tightly to his muscles, his knees were kicked in the back by Rikke and he fell gently to his knees with a soft 'thud'. Gemma's heart sank at seeing one of her favorite characters in this state. She had an elaborate background for him, and knew that he would be thinking only of the family he never had, the loss of those he once did and the anguish of knowing he would never attain any of the dreams she so tediously thought up for him. She was almost ready to lunge forward, not caring about her own death anymore, she had to protect her creation. He was a part of her, and she refused to let him die without a fight. It was then that it happened.

The booming sound of a dragon ripped through her thoughts. It had landed on top of a watchtower and looked down, seemingly right into the eyes of Eirikur. Its scaley hide was darker than midnight and seemed to trap all light that would dare reflect off of him; like a living black hole. The eyes that now bore into Eirikur were a deep crimson red and glowing like two ruby orbs as it glowered at him; reading his soul. Alduin let loose his masterful art of thu'um, resulting in Eirikur and a few other soldiers to be knocked over. The sky became overcast and started raining down fire and and flaming rocks that looked like meteors. Alduin once more took to the sky, his weathered and rotting wings flapped powerfully as he rose higher, causing powerful gusts of air to current and knock over those who weren't prepared for the force. He then started tossing soldiers and buildings like they were Barbie and her dream home; plastic and cheap.

The impact of the heavy buildings being damamged around her caused the ground to rumble. She could hear the cries of soldiers and townspeople alike; brisk, fearful and full of struggle. She saw Ralof lead Eirikur toward safety and decided that would be a good path to follow. It was hard to run in her sack cloth clothing; the texture was an itchy russet texture and smelled of potatoes. She managed to keep pace with Ralof and Eirikur- although slightly behind them- despite their obviously more athletic bodies. She made it through the door before it was pushed closed behind her. She had just barely made it inside, for right after the door slammed shut there was an impact against it, followed by the smell of burning wood and melting metal. They were in the tower now. Ulfric, people she didn't recognize, Ralof, Eirikur and she were gathering their surroundings.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"Ralof stood by the door frame leading out of the watchtower. Jarl Ulfric looked collected, as if this wasn't a very big deal. This bothered Gemma. Although she supposed when you rule over a city you'd have to keep calm in times of chaos to establish a feeling of control for those who had none. She guessed it was a form of reassurance for who he deemed lesser than him.

"Legends don't burn down villages" Ulfric stated; his arms crossed and his demeanor calm. If the world were ending now, you wouldn't be able to guess based on how calm he appeared to be. If his demeanor hadn't frustrated Gemma before, his answer certainly did. But it always had ever since her first run-through. Ralof indicated they had to find a new way out that was more ssafe, and practically pushed Gemma up the tower stairs; but she knew what was going to happen. She struggled at the part before Alduin was supposed to play 'pop! goes the weasal' and stood her ground this time. Earning a frustrated grunt from Eirikur and more force applied to her from Ralof. But she managed to stay firmly planted long enough for the scene to play. Instantly, rubble was being tossed all around them, including another soldier that was now buried in it; the rubble cut off the stairs to the top of the tower. She was actually disappointed with this, because she had always wanted to go up there. She knew there's be nothing worthwhile, but it always bothered her that she couldn't see it for herself. She didn't have much more time to think about it before the unpleasant appearance of Alduin.

He was much scarier in-person. Being up, close and personal with a being called the 'world eater' was not very high on her list of things to do, as she imagined it wouldn't be for many other people. But the sensation she got from this mythical being sent chills down her spine. She wasn't sure if it was just the realism behind this illusion she appeared to be having, or if it was because she felt like she was awake. Alduin looked at all three of them before fixating on Eirikur. Its breath smelled of decay and death and its head had several gaps in the shape of battle scars, some patches looked like there were scales missing. But the black that enveloped and secured the flesh of Alduin made it hard, if not impossible to discern what these imperfections truly were. It unleashed a Thu'um attack, but not before Gemma pushed Eirikur and Ralof back down the stairs and against the wall at the bottom. If they were against being lead away from Adluin, they didn't struggle to show it as she found no trouble and trying to get the three of them away from the beast's fiery wrath.

After they could no longer hear the chilling screech of his thu'um, they jogged back up the stairs for what Gemma knew would not be a fun task. So far, everything was realistic for her. Down to the uncomfortable fabric and the aching in her body. Jumping from the tower was the last thing she wanted to do. But with the door out being burned and smeltered shut she didn't have any choice.

IT took some convincing, which eventually resulted in her being pushed, but Ralof and Eirikur got Gemma falling down into the burning building below. After Gemma and Eirikur jumped through the roof they met up with Hadvar and made their way through the maze of chaos that now consumed Helgen.

"Come on, keep up." Eirikur had told her for the third time already. She used mods to make him sexy, but she wished she had given him a better personality at this point. Hhe hadn't ever planned on matching him up with any NPCs in-game since she had never found someone she could see him with, and so this lead him to be non-flirtatious except when she wrote about him for fun. She wish she had done that or that one of her more chivalrous, charming characters had been thrown into her dreams. But she'd try and experiment with that later. For now, she was accepting that her mind was making her suffer.

Eirikur was running closely behind Hadvar, making sure to keep up and dodge random fireballs and pieces of brick and wood. He couldn't wait to get his binds off and head back to Windhelm. He really needed to unwind and Candlehearth hall was calling his name. All he could think about now was good mead and a good meal. He turned his head back toward the red haired woman that had been caught up in this mess the same as he had. No doubt she was just crossing the border like he. She wasn't very fast when it came to running and it didn't look like she knew how to handle any kind of weapon since she lacked a presence. He sized her up as a mage, since she didn't look sneaky or strong. Either way she needed to keep up the pace. He was getting annoyed at having to worry about someone other than himself. But he couldn't help it, despire being reserved and unapproaching when it's a pretty woman, something stirred inside him when he looked at her. Something he couldn't control and he didn't like it. The pit of his stomach flopped and he felt energy form in his shoulders that wasn't there before. He didn't like the loss of control he now experienced. And decided that he would dislike this girl with every fober of his being to make up for it. At least until he got a better footing on what it was he was feeling.

"Almost there." Hadvar called out, dodging a rock the size of a troll before leading them to the building where they would be freed.

At this point Gemma stopped paying attention, she knew Ralof and Hadvar were about to have their lovers spat and she was much more interested in going inside the keep. So instead of slowing down she started sprinting toward the door that Ralof typically went in. Eirikur watched her body tense and knew she was about to bolt. He grabbed on to her shirt collar before she got more than a couple feet; stopping her dead in her tracks and chocking her.

"You should be more careful before you run ahead." Eirikur chided her like a big brother, annoyed at her ability to react first and think second. Gemma couldn't respond because of the tight, dry feeling in her throat that came with being choked. 'You, bastard! I wish I'd imagined about making your dick small! Which I'm going to do when I wake up.' She mentally noted that she would make him a lesser favored character now, or at least revise some of his personality, if she could. The idea of rewriting a character she had already grown attached to hurt her. Especially when she spent the amount of time putting the depth of thought and tedious hours of plotting his background like she had done so many times. But she wouldn't be allowed to think about this topic at this time, not here.

The dragon was now flying overhead, his roar shook the ground and his fiery breath melted all the snow that once fell in Helgen; leaving the ground wet and covered with ash and rubble. Eirikur saw Alduin approaching closer and grabbed Gemma around her waist locking his bound arms around her waist by bringing his arms over her head, picked her up and started running toward the same door she previously tried to escape and enter. Even Ralof and Hadvar stopped fighting and ran toward their respective doors, slamming it shut behind anyone who followed them.

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Cliffy! 8D Next chapter is titled:

"Unbound To Be Friends"

And will be a 2 part because of my limited time dedicated to writing. n.n

And will feature more storyline than just the set up I've been doing. I promise I'll do a really good thorough job on the next chapter


	3. Unbound to be Friends (part 1)

Hey guys! I'd like to thank everyone who's following my story and given it a chance. I realize – after reading several fanfics- that my writing is horribly rusty. But thankfully reading so much has showed me a little bit more on how to write properly and catch your attention. That's what I'm going to try and do in this next chapter. Also, I may end up rewriting/editing my other chapters a bit so that they capture the imagination better than before. Hindsight is 20/20, you know.

**Warning:** Violence, Gore, Adult themes and Language

P.S. I can't play Skyrim and haven't played in a while due to having no Xbox at my current location. My parents have a PS3 and bought me Skyrim for it on my birthday. But their PS3 broke so they had to send it in to Sony. It's going to be a while before I'm able to actually play the game, so minute details (or exorbitant, although hopefully not) may not be accurate. If this happens: my apologies as I'm trying to stick to canon as much as possible within the story.

P.P.S. Ralof is slightly non-canon (as well as some others) because they are in a different scenario than the canon story. Also, I want to go into more depth on their personalities as a whole based on their reactions. Aaaand maybe because Ralof is sexy and I want him to play the loner. So, sorry to all whom this bothers.

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**Unbound To Be Friends**

Once inside the safety of the structure; they caught their breath. Ralof was the first to explore the room. It was a circular room with two gates; one to the left and the other to the right. In the middle of the gates, pushed back against the wall, was a table with and before anyone could look at anything else they saw the dead body by the table. Ralof said his peace with his fallen comrade, Gunjor, and offered the equipment to either Gemma or Eirikur.

Eirikur examined the equipment and took it for himself before walking over to look at one of the two gates in the room.

"Hey!" Gemma crossed her arms in a pout.

"What about me?" she huffed.

"Do you have any experience in combat?" he asked as if he already knew the answer, not bothering to turn around and look at her. Gemma was about to say something back when Ralof hushed them.

"Ssh! Imperials… get ready. Aodis, unless you know magic: hide under the table and don't make a sound."

Gemma did as suggested, crossing her shapely legs to her chest and hunched over after she crawled under the table; pushing herself as far underneath it as possible. She hated feeling scared, she hated being bossed around. And even though none of this seemed real, she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. 'You never know. This may be how people in comas never come out or just die. They could just get themselves killed inside the mind and give up…' She would've thought more on the matter if it weren't for the gates opening and the clash of metal clashing around her. She dared a peak at the clang of weaponry that displayed in front of her and was impressed with what she saw. Ralof could handle himself admirably, as could Eirkur. She was in too much shock at her world's upheaval to think much more on the matter. Everything was still sinking in.

With the thump of the bodies to the floor and clank of weapons and armor that came with it; Gemma knew that the battle was over. She crawled out from her hiding place and saw the gore that was violence. She'd played video games before; gory ones. Not to mention all the horror movies she'd seen and the videos of people dying she'd found on the internet. But to actually see it first hand was entirely different.

The blood spilled from the corpses like you would expect a sink to overflow; the thick vermillion liquid staining the floor and consuming every crack and crevice it could in the process. Perhaps the worse part would be the looks on their face; eyes open and wide in terror of what was inevidably the end of their life. It was almost like she could read the memories and past regrets on their faces; blank stares and resistance to accept what had happened. Going from existance to nothingness. The smell of copper and defecation was nausiating and Gemma's face went white. She could feel her legs turning to jell-o, her muscles contracted of their own volition, her head felt as though her brain had jumped right out of her skull; light, empty and incapable of processing what she'd just seen. And then nothing.

* * *

By the time Gemma had come to she was by herself, leaned against a wall and next to a small table in what she could only describe as a small barrack. In front of her was a bright flame in a copper lantern and she could hear the sounds of battle in the next room over. If memory served her correctly -which she wasn't sure at this point- they were close to the torture chambers. The idea of seeing more violence and death sent knots in her stomach, and against her will, she conked out once more.

**-$ Ralof's POV $-**

The imperials were easy anough to dispatch, though the bigger one had been a little more challenging than the smaller one; it had been quick work with Eirikur's help. Eirikur was a strong, silent type. I've known many great men on the battle field who's words were few but when spoken, carried weight. Although, Eirikur had yet to prove he was smarter than a cave bear. From the little that I already know about him, he seems to be impressive. I know he's been approached before to join the good cause, but so far he's rejected all advances. It's a shame that his talents could not be harnessed for High King Ulfric. But fate must have other plans for him. At least for now.

Wiping my axe clean, I decide to push aside any thoughts of the war and focus only on getting us out of here. I put it away and looked over at Eirikur. I don't know what side of the war he has chosen, but it was obvious that he found the men we just slew as disgusting as I did. Torture is nasty business. All is fair in war, I suppose. But attacking and prodding a man who is unarmed is among the most dishonorable acts I can imagine. My guess is Eirikur feels the same. With the slurs and taunts of the torturer and his assistant fresh in my mind; I kick over an empty barrel before up-heaving a table in the torture chambers. The table had a knpsack on it along with a book and dagger, but I didn't care.

Eirikur looked over at me, but I missed the look on his face. I don't care what it was. All I care about is making the blood of those bastards spill and stain my blade. In my rage I passed a cell that looked like it had a dead mage in it. Breaking free of my fury, I thought of the girl that was with us. She has no combat experience, maybe she is a mage? Either way, these will be some 'fresh' clothes for her to put on. I picked the locked after breaking a couple picks. I've never been one for stealth, anyway. I'd have much rather broke the door down, but I might need my weapon -and body- intact for later. I knelt down and disrobed the poor man that lay below me. I don't care too much for magic, but no one deserves this kind of end. I tried to hold my breath as I took off his garments. He may not have been there long, but when you've smelled a dead body many times before; it becomes easier to detect every time after that. I have no desire to lose the mead I drank earlier. I hope Aodis isn't picky. I doubted she was considering the clothes she had and the demeanor in which she carried herself. I hoped I was right as I stood back up from the previous task to check on her and give her the clothes.

**-$ End of Ralof's POV $-**

Eirikur finished their pillaging of the torture chamber before heading back to check on Gemma. Ralof had come to check on her before him. She was just how they'd left her with the exception that her face was facing a different direction. "I hope she wakes soon. Being this affected by the sight of bodies, the war- everything... I'm concerned it may leave a mark on someone so fragile." Ralof's voice was full of general concern for the girl. She reminded him of a past love lost long ago. Not in her size, but in the delicate and feminine features she had. It wasn't everyday you saw a flower in a barren wasteland. Ralof shut out those kind of thoughts. They would distract him and get them all killed. He hadn't lay with a woman for quite some time, and it seemed to be getting to his head. He looked toward Eirikur and nodded to him in silent agreement. Eirikur nodded back and picked up Gemma, throwing her over his shoulder before they continued further into the keep.

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OKAY! So rather than be evil and wait a few days to update and make it longer I'm going to go ahead and upload this one now and make it a 2 parter until they get out of the cavern and stuff n.n

I think that I've waited too long to update as it is. Sorry for that. A lot of stupid stuff is happening and as much as writing is one of my only escapes from life, it is also something that real life makes sure I don't have much time for xD

With that being said. Sorry for the long wait and short chapter. You have my word the next one will be up before the 10th of Dec. :D

And OMG, is Ralof already falling for Gemma's feminine charms? Or does it have to do with some strange in-game ability or item? You'll have to keep reading to find out n_n

And before you get pissed off about 'That's not realistic!' Crushes very much start from simple attraction for whatever convenient reason the mind decides at any given time. so STFU and GTFO unless you have some constructive criticism BP

Lol. Love you guys 83


	4. Unbound to be Friends (part 2)

Hey, guys. Sorry it took so long. And when I said I'd update before the 10th I hadn't anticipated being injured and having to deal with doctors visits and xrays . Anywho. Here is the next story. I promise the story will develop better the more it goes on. And eventually it's going to branch out a little, with some surprise guests and side stories!

**Warning:** Violence, Gore, Adult Themes and Language.

Also, I do plan on Gemma starting off pathetic and working her way up to useful. Because, let's be honest: how many of us nerds are really equiped to handle being thrown into Skyrim? Didn't think so. Also, lots of bashing on my poor OC until then. Though mostly narative bashing, there are isntances where characters will take mental (or verbal) notice of her useless state.

For now, I present you with chapter 4, part 2.

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Unbound to be Friends

Part. 2

Ralof and Eirikur made it past the imperial ambush, barely. Eirikur had several flesh wounds not to mention the amount of times he was pushed against a wall or onto the ground. Ralof got away much easier since he was lighter on his feet and better at evading. He did happen to have more seasons on him over Eirikur, and the battle scars to prove it. Gemma was still swinging from their arms as they passed her between the two so they wouldn't tire their muscles too quickly. Their opinion of her declined at her inability to handle the task in front of them. Ralof, though more understanding of Eirikur, still didn't like the idea of hauling someone around. It pu them at a disadvantage and put everyone's life at risk. He wished she would wake up so he could see if she was a mage, hoping that she might be able to stay awake long enough to be an asset instead of a liability.

Eirikur was convinced she was a liability in her current state. If it hadn't been for timing and their will to complete the task they started they'd have most likely left her behind to fend for herself. But something about her made Ralof feel protective, Eirikur too, but he was less likely to admit it. As far as Eirikur was concerned, he hated her. The twisting he got in his stomach was not of his own volition. For once in his life he had felt something beyond his control. It angered and frustrated him and there were many times he was tempted to 'accidently' leave her behind or drop her. But he saw Ralof's eyes when he looked at her. And he didn't know if they had known each other beforehand. The last thing he wanted to do was start a fight with someone under Ulfric's protection. Not when he had so much to lose back home in Windhelm. This only made him resent Gemma more. He wanted to leave her somehwere and be rid of her.

The sound of their boots colliding with the ground echoed through the cavern they just entered. The Frostbite Spiders were easy enough to kill. A few smacks between Eirikur and Ralof had taken them down. Looking around they tried to find whatever supplies possible. Going through the silken eggs sacs; only a lock pick, some gold and a skeever tail were left in the cocoons. Eirikur would never get used to the feeling of ripping open the sacs. He'd done it before and found it an unpleasant task, so he left Ralof to go through most of them, deciding whatever spoils were inside weren't worth the feeling of having the silken strands stick to him and his armor.

As if on queue, Gemma finally opened her light, blue-green eyes to observe Ralof backing up and pulling the silk string off of his body with some boots in his hands. She got up from the floor; her back ached like she'd been tossed around for the last hour. She yawned and stretched trying to take in her surroundings all at once. She always hated this room in the game. Her eyes froze. Eirikur's back was turned to Ralof as he was observing the source of light coming into the cavern. He hadn't seen or detected the last spider. Ralof was looking toward the other end of the cave at the passage they would be going through next and putting the boots up to his feet to see if they'd fit. Without thinking, Gemma picked up a rock on the ground next to her and threw it at the spider. In hindsight, she could have just screamed or warned him verbally, but she was worried it wouldn't have worked.

She thought adirect physical interaction would produce the most desirable results. And as if by prediction, the frostbite spider forgot about Eirikur and turned around to look at her, its tiny arachnid eyes bore furiously into hers as it released a deafening screech from its orifice. Gemma put her hands over her ears, as did Eirikur and Ralof, who had turned around from what they were doing to pinpoint the cause of the sound. Without warning, the frostbite spider shot its venom at Gemma. She had no time to react and it hit her directly on the chest, burning her clothes and skin with its acidic texture.

She screamed in pain and Ralof went to action. His axe drawn, he ran up to the spider and lowered it down blade first onto skull; slicing it open. Eirikur walked over to the spider and kicked it.

"Sneaky bastard." His voice was calm; almost playful. As if he had suddenly realized that someone had snuck up and tagged him to be 'it' in a game of hide and seek. He let out a rich chuckle and it rumbled and resounded in his chest. He looked over to Gemma to discover Ralof was already there looking over her wounds. The acidic compound of the venom had torn away at some of her clothes; leaving her colder than she was before. The parts of her body it hit that clothes had no protection for was now turning red and swelling. She could feel the sting of the venom on her skin and the numbing effect it had on her muscles. Her skin started to tingle and itch and she soon realized other than that sensation, she couldn't feel anything else on the affected area; not her skin or muscles. Like a paralyzing potion that left only enough nerves undamaged to be in pain.

She seethed and tried to hold a groan in at the pain. "You shouldn't have done that." Ralof chided her; he didn't carry her all this way to have her die at this point. Gemma looked up at him and smiled. She'd always liked Ralof. Regardless of his allegiance, he seemed like a decent guy. Even though she never completed the main storyline because she disliked it, she almost always chose to go with Ralof. She wasn't sure why. She had an idea though, as a blush spread across her face she pushed aside the thought of the nights she had thought of him. Of the times she'd been with a man and her heart had been set on Ralof the entire time. If this was a coma, she could live with it. Having him here in front of her was crazy.

"It looks like you're getting a fever. Your face is turning red." He put his cold, calloused hand on her cheek and then up to her forehead. This, of course, only caused her cheeks to get even redder. Gemma was by no means a virgin, but she wasn't a slut either. Selective would've been a good word to describe her sexual desires. And Ralof fit into her category of desirable men. She pushed the thoughts of him shirtless away and was grateful that she had an excuse for her reddened face. By this time Eirikur had walked over to take a look at her. He noted the expression she had on her face and looked over the wounds. He detected something present on her features that mixed with her anguish over being poisoned. It was unusual but she seemed to be blushing, and it didn't look like it was from the fever. Eirikur tried to stay as distant as possible after this conclusion, but he couldn't help finding it amusing that she liked Ralof enough that he distracted her from pain.

"We should hurry so we can get her to a healer." Eirikur suggested, ignoring the fact that Gemma was now less clothed than before. Her in-game character that represented herself –or at least what she wanted to look like- had pale rose-tinted skin, a contrast to her pasty neutral toned skin in real life, and a slim but curvy build, which was opposite of her normal body in the real world where she was chubby.

Ralof nodded in agreement and picked up Gemma carefully, minding her wounds.

They were almost out of the cavern. The sound of water promised an end to this nightmare was at hand. They could feel a draft and heard the sound of wind moving through the cavern. Their steps echoed less against the dark cave as the new sound of air flowing through the cavern slowly got louder the longer they progressed. Relief beginning to set in, Gemma decided a conversation was in order.

"So, what's the plan after this?" She feigned innocence. She already knew they would head for Riverwood, then Whiterun. But being so knowledgeable about their plans would draw out unwanted attention, and she would rather come along for the ride rather than dictate where it leads.

"Well, I'm going to Riverwood to resupply before I head back to Windhelm. I've got a sister there who can help me out." Ralof answered. "I see." Gemma looked over toward Eirikur "What about you?" She asked, generally more curious since she had no idea what an in-game created character might do.

"I'll head to Riverwood for supplies and head back to Windhelm as well." Gemma nodded at his response. 'Geez, it's like pulling teeth to get them talking!' She sighed in defeat and decided to be quiet for now. She looked around her and noticed they were at the end of the cave where they'd run into the bear, or have to sneak past it. Her body tensed, which didn't go unnoticed to Ralof since he was carrying her.

"What's wrong?" He asked before pausing and placing her on the ground.

"I think there's something up ahead." She tried to conceal as much as possible. Maybe they'd believe it was a lucky guess. She currently didn't care what they believed. If they pressed further she could claim knowing a life detection spell. She felt slightly proud of herself for a few seconds from the quick excuse she thought up. But it was fleeting as she watched Ralof wander off into the distance of the cavern.

Ralof and Eirikur inspected the area further, being as quiet as possible. Ralof found the end of the cave where the bear was. His skills as a warrior proved useful; his sneaking wasn't as developed as a seasoned thief, but it was obvious that he'd snuck before, possibly to ambush some Imperials. Ralof returned with the news of his findings, eyeing Gemma suspiciously. She faltered under his scrutinizing stare, and wasn't sure if she was relieved or frightened that he hadn't pressed her in the matter. She had a feeling of foreboding, like this conversation wasn't over. Her eyes shifted uneasily as Ralof and Eirikur went over the few provisions they'd fished off of slain enemies. Gemma kicked at the ground slightly; wondering how they were going to get past the bear. She hated fighting them. She thought back to home; she was beginning to miss teh luxuries that were provided her. Her cell phone, laptop, gaming platforms, friends, family; they'd be worried sick. "Hmph!" She pouted before kicking a fist sized stone into the crevice that had a small stream at the bottom.

Without time to react or think about what she'd done, her hands clasped over her mouth. "Yes, I think we shoud sneak aroun-" but Ralof didn't get to finish his sentence; the echo of the falling stone filled the cavern and a very distinct growl was heard from the direction of the bear. Both Ralof and Eirikur looked back at Gemma, who stood there with a nervous grin on her face. "Oopsy." She tried to joke, but both men kept a stoic look on their faces, Eirikur's eyes revealed what looked like he wanted to strangle her, but said nothing.

"So much for that idea." Ralof said, trying to sound light-hearted. Gemma knew his words weren't meant to be hurtful, more like brushing past what had happened, but she couldn't deny the guilt that swelled up in her stomach. She sighed before croaching in a sneak position. "We're way past that, girlie." Eirikur taunted; annoyance dripping from his voice as he shot her a scowl. Gemma just stared back. She didn't make him like this. What was going on? She tried to hide the hurt on her face, but couldn't help leting a sliver of her emotions through. She was not equiped to handle this kind of torment. People that treated her as Eirikur was treating her never made it on her list of friends, and she never contacted anyone again that spoke to her with harsh words. Her hurt was soon replaced with anger, and sadness that he disliked her so much when she lovingly spent hours of in-game playtime with him.

"Shut it." Ralof hissed to cut the less-than-friendly interaction between them short.

Gemma pouted and Eirikur looked ahead toward the bear. The bear was up and moving around in a territorial search pattern to investigate the noise; it was getting closer to them.

"Hide." Ralof insisted. Gemma was about to protest before she saw that a corner for her to hide in also had a bow and some iron arrows Ralof must have set down. She croached once more, ignoring the grunt from Eirikur that she knew must have been a 'go do what you're best at' gesture. She made it to the weapons in the nick of time, because as soon as she equiped them around her and tested out the bow string she heard the sound of an angry animal; surprised to find men in its territory, angry at their breach and protective of its home. The sound seemed to resonate inside Gemma, she'd never heard a bear growl so ferociously in person. The low, feral roar was enough to break through even the most stoic of adventurers. But Ralof and Eirikur went to work, dodging the swift swipes at their bodies and landing blows when they could; the deadly dance was intense, magical and horrifying all at once. It took a blow to Ralof's chest to snap Gemma from her fixation. Ralof groaned and was forced against the ground. Barely dodging the bear's full weight on him; he rolled to the side despite the intense pain he felt from the chest wound. He wouldn't have time to inspect it until later, but he could tell it would leave a mark. A sticky warm substance leaked from the broken skin under his wounds, making his blue tunic stain with the crimson liquid that was his life force.

Eirikur dealt a heavy blow to the bear; bringing his weapon down onto the bear's head in an attempt to end it's life. The bear groaned in pain, but seemed more enraged than hurt. It recovered from the hit to the head sooner than Eirikur thought and swiped at him as well. Eirikur dodged the large claw, but just barely, leaving a slight graze from the bear's claw that ripped through some of his armor and grazed his skin. Gemma took this oppurtunity to act. The bear either hadn't noticed her yet or hadn't deemed her a threat as much as the others. She hoped this would be its downfall. She loaded her bow and aimed at the bear; hoping to get a clear shot. She didn't know what she was doing. She'd never taken archery and was passive by nature. But here she was, defending characters in a game... in her head. She sighed and released the string; nothing happened. The arrow missed its target completely, leaving Eirikur and the bear in the same condition before she attempted to intervene.

She growled quietly with frustration, reloaded and aimed again; it was a closer shot this time. The arrow wizzed by the bear but it got its attention. It forgot about Eirikur and immediately came at Gemma. Regreting her decision instantly, Gemma turned around to start running, but she was still in poor shape from earlier and clutched at her abdomen in pain. She heard the heavy thud of the bears paws hitting the ground; its breath was fearsome as it paced itself in its advance on her; the ground starting to tremble the closer it got with each pad hitting the ground in a heartstopping 'thump'.

Panicstriken, she didn't dare look back. She could only focus on the existance of a threat and a venue of exit. But it was in that moment she felt a strike on her arm. Groaning in pain, she fell to the ground. She was a goner. The sharp, stinging feeling slowly travelled down her arm and into her elbow; tingling with a dull, swelling pain surrounding the area that had clearly penetrated her flesh. She clutched at her upper arm and let out a sigh of pain. She knew it would be over soon; she waited for the final blow of the bear; but it never came. Her eyes unclenched from their terrified state and took a chance to gander at the scene before her; she heard no rythmic pursuit, no heavy breathing of a determined predator, no fowl odeur of fish and decaying meat from the beast, nothing. She rolled over onto her back and looked at the direction of her pursuer. The bear lay dead only 3 feet away from her; skull crushed and caved in, brain matter and broken skull fragments spilled in front of her, some had even splatted onto her legs, but she was too pumped with adrenaline and fear to think about how gross it was. She looked farther and found Eirikur heaving heavily against a wall, clearly out of breath and glaring daggers at her. 'Well, gosh if he hates me that bad, why didn't he just let the bear take me?' she thought to herself. But it was a rhetorical question. She knew why. As much as he disliked her he still wouldn't let her die under his watched. Or perhaps he didn't want to live with teh guilt. She was glad that some of the decency she'd given this man was still there, if just barely.

Gemma sighed in relief. Her adrenaline wearing off, she realized that her arm now stung the most she'd ever experienced in her life. Glancing over at it, she found that the sting hadn't come from the bear, but from an arrow. She looked past the bear quizzically to find that Ralof had equiped a bow and arrow and was trying to distract the bear so Eirikur could follow through with its demise. Archery obviously wasn't his best skill, and now Gemma bore the scar of this painful reminder. She passed out once again, but this time it was from the intense pain and exaustion of facing life or death situations. The pain was too much. The emotional rollercoaster of being in life threatening situations was too much. This wasn't her and she just wanted to wake up. With the little energy she had left, she exhaled peacefully and slipped into unconsciousness. Hoping that when she woke; everything would just be a bad dream. The last thing she remembered before passing into sleep was Ralof looking over her body; concern plastered on his face. There was something else, but she was too unaware of anything to analyze it. she didn't have time to wonder how she was suddenly standing and was now on the floor. She didn't remember laying down or falling and she couldn't recall much, if anything in her current mental state. She smiled lovingly up at Ralof, his icy eyes the only thing that she could focus on; like a nightlight in the darkness. It was a security blanket.

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Woohoo! The next chapter they'll be out of the cave~! :D

And the story starts to thicken a little bit (I hope). Lemma know what ya'll think n.n Remember: reviews make me happy and happiness makes me more inclined to write!

Also, if you have a problem with something or there's a pairing you want to see soon (or you just want to torture my OC or someone else in the Skyrim universe) I'm all ears! But you have to let me know!


	5. Why should I listen to you?

Hey, guys! I dunno if anyone is left reading this (I hope so) but I wanted to say thank you for your loyalty and patience. In this chapter they will be out of the cave and, as much as I love a long and detailed story about every little thing, for the sake of those that don't, I'm going to cut a lot of stuff.

So, for those of you who are aware now (if you aren't I apologize for the confusion):

**Long lines along the story like so:**

* * *

**Symbolize a skip in time.** It might be a few minutes, seconds, days, weeks or even a month. But regardless of the time frame, (which I will henceforth put how much time has passed, or at least an idea of how long) it means there's a skip to save tedious writing and reading that may aggravate the reader. I tend to put in too much detailed writing and forget to add or pronounce the important parts as much as necessary, so I'm hoping to stop that.

"Double Quotes means Talking"

'Singe quotes means thinking' But it may change to _italics_ in the future.

Symbols next to 'insert character's name here + POV' indicate a Point Of View change and you should read it thusly.

**PS. Lemon and smut shall come in later chapters.** _Around Chapter 8._  
Although I'm limited as to what I can say on here (Fanfiction rule, you know) I will be putting up the pure, smutty glory in full on my DA account, which you'll find a link to on my profile. Also, I'll be making an A3O account which allows me to be more freely versed in said actions. Even more so than DA.

This chapter shall include some Ralof fluff, wandering, giants, wolves, bandits etc. Slight non-con hints and almost happenings.

**Warning:** Character Bashing, Fluff, OoCness, Violence, Gore, Adult Themes and Language, hints of attempted non-con and emotional torment. AKA: ANGST.

Now, I've prolonged enough. ON TO THE CHAOS!

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Why Should I?

Chapter 5

Heavy eyelids lifted drowsily from their sleep. There was a feeling of pain, but it wasn't as sharp as she felt it should be. A strange odor filled her nostrils followed by a nasty tasting liquid sliding down her throat; she was drinking something. Her focus was still blurry, but it looked like the outline of a woman was in front of her and feeding her from a flask or vial of some sort. "So, are you going to stay awake this time?" came the heavily nord accented women. "Hopefully you'll be a little more cooperative than when you last woke. I'd hate for you to get knocked out again." She spoke with a genuine concern in her voice. "Where am I?" Gemma's voice cracked under her breath and she realized that she was extremely thirsty; like she hadn't drunk in weeks. Before the woman answered, she lifted a goblet up for Gemma. It was through this that Gemma realized the sudden, splitting pain she was in. She attempted to lift her right arm to take the goblet, but found the attempt nearly crippled her.

A groan of pain escaped from her lips and she immediately recoiled. "Be careful, use your other arm." Came the comforting voice of the woman. "Your in Riverwood. Safe. I'm Gerdur, Ralof's sister. He brought you here after the attack." Her voice was kind and she had a pair of eyes that had been tempered in compassion. Gemma was becoming more and more aware of herself, where she was and who she was talking to. Her dismay spread across her face at this realization. If she was in a coma, she might have no control over how soon she'd wake. If she didn't… she perished the thought. She couldn't think like that. And there was no way any of this was real. So she'd have to accept these events sooner or later. Gerdur mistook her sad mood as a reference to her arm.

"Ralof isn't the best archer in the world. And from what I hear he unleashed enough arrows in its back to slow it down. I'd hate to think of what would've happened if he hadn't done that." Gerdur was going to protect her family's honor, and wanted to make sure that Gemma knew he was trying to protect her. Gerdur found it too bad that the amount of arrows shot into the bear ruined any chance of getting meat or making a nice fur with its hide. Gerdur resolved that the bear must've been protecting cubs, just woken up or been very nasty in temperament. Either way, the loss of provisions upset her. Gemma's eyes looked up and searched Gerdur's before she realized she hadn't responded and was being rude. "Oh. No, I'm glad he tried to stop the bear. That's not what I'm upset about." She looked down at the covers and furs that were wrapped around her. Her bed was fairly comfy, which surprised her since it wasn't like the modern luxury she was used to. She wondered if she was really that tired or if she was just lucky to get a nice place to rest and recover.

It had been quite a long pause from Gerdur before she spoke again, "Well, I won't pry. None of my business, anyways. We all have our problems, but I suggest you worry about recovering instead of whatever else is going through your head. I doubt it'll help you recover any faster if it troubles you that much." With that Gerdur got up and headed toward the door, but not before turning to look at Gemma once more "I'm going out for a while. I'll be back in a few minutes. I need to buy some things for supper. There's water beside the bed for you, along with a plate of food if you need it. I'll be back before long." With that she went out the door, allowing for some of Skyrim's naturally chilly climate to slip inside momentarily.

It took some maneuvering, but Gemma grabbed the water from beside her bed and drank from it faster than anything she ever had before. She'd have to ask Gerdur how long she'd been asleep and force-fed potions. The water made her mouth feel cold and washed away most of the nasty potion aftertaste, but she gargled and swished it around; if not for extra measure, then because she couldn't stand her mouth feeling dirty, which it did. Not entirely happy but pleased that most of the bad taste was gone and feeling cleaner than before, she decided to get started on the apple that was on the plate left for her. At first her blind hunger wouldn't allow her to actually taste the apple, she could only feel the juice dripping into and around her mouth as she crunched into it and broke the skin. It wasn't until halfway through that she noticed how sweet and fresh it was, almost like a Pink Lady Apple, but with an ever so slight sour taste that didn't diminish from the sweetness at all, and much juicier. She wasn't sure if she was just craving apple, or if this was what it was like to taste food for the first time again. "Near death experiences can do that to you." She smiled sardonically as she spoke to herself. Her voice didn't crack this time, and was only a little hoarse from lack of use, which reminded her, again, to see how long she was asleep. "Indeed." Came a familiar voice from the door. Her whole head shot over in surprise and she almost jumped out of bed from shock. Ralof looked alarmed and then guilty. "Relax; I'm not going to hurt you." His eyes, though seasoned like a warrior, flashed with pain and guilt as his eyes left hers to linger on her wrapped arm in its sling. Gemma looked down, ashamed she'd been so scared and chastised herself for getting lost in thought.

She tried to recover her mental state and stop being so dreary. She was depressed, scared, lonely and in pain, but he didn't need to know that; no one did. She forced a smile and looked at him, which she found wasn't too hard after giving him an once-over; his muscles were hardened and toned into a warriors body from the years of wielding weaponry and fighting. His skin that wasn't covered had scars on it, some faint and barely noticeable and others fresh and brand new. It was upon this inspection that she realized he was standing stiffly; it was unnatural. It then hit her that he had been hurt in the cave as well. She frowned. "How're your wounds doing?" She looked at his chest.

Ralof looked down and half smiled; he was amused and taken off guard. "Still healing. I thank the gods that it was only a graze." He walked over to her bed and sat down on the side. "And yours?" His voice was still lighthearted, but she could hear the concern in his voice. "Still healing." She imitated his response playfully and returned the same smile. This granted her a deep chuckle from his chest; it resonated and the bed moved up and down a little as a result. The movement -or possibly the effects of the potions she'd been fed- made her dizzy, but she hid it. Trying to be less pathetic than she felt. "How long was I out for?" She half closed her eyes as she leaned back against her pillow in a seating position. Ralof looked at the floor, as if remembering something unpleasant. "Not too long," His eyes shifted downward, fixating on a notch in the wooden flooring. "A few days." He looked back over at Gemma momentarily. "A few days?" her voice scrutinized as her eyes went wide. She had never been out so long before. It made her wonder how long she's been in the coma. Her eyes shifted toward the foot of her bed, half closed. She didn't feel like herself anymore. She was getting more and more terrified of her condition the longer she stayed in Skyrim. She felt on the brink of tears and fought ferociously against it. She was having a huge internal struggle. Everything happened so fast when she was sucked in to Skyrim. She was almost convinced that it wasn't a dream and possibly not coma induced delusions. She was about to go in shock.

And then, just like that, she felt a firm, yet delicate grip on her good shoulder; gently pushing her back into a laying position. She looked up into Ralof's icy-blue eyes, clear, pristine and gorgeous. The game never did his looks justice. She thanked the other Ralof fangirls for creating MODs that allowed her to bring out his beauty in-game. And now that he appeared as a real person she could only barely mask her lust for him as she gazed longingly into his eyes, expecting that now: at her weakest she'd be ravished by him. And although her arm was in pain, whatever she'd been fed was slowly numbing it. She resolved it was not an instant potion effect before becoming distracted once more by Ralof and the effect his presence had on her.

She lay back and closed her eyes, slightly puckering her lips; expecting Ralof to take her. But it never came. Eyes still closed, she felt the furs that wrapped around her being tucked in to her form, giving special attention to mind her limp arm. She opened her eyes into slits in the nick of time to catch the smell of honey-sweet alcohol lingering on his breath as his lips gently grazed her right cheek; his beard somewhat prickly although she barely felt it from the care taken in his touch. His hair was loose and had a couple of braids that held some of it back, but the hair that hung freely danced and tickled across her face in feathery traces and outlines. She couldn't help the smile that snuck its way onto her lips. Between the flush her face felt, the red that must be even more obvious on her ivory-pink skin. The dopey smirk she couldn't help but accommodate left her looking fairly comical. She couldn't help it, and wondered with the last part of her clear mind what ingredients had been put in the potion she was fed not 10 minutes ago.

**$ Ralof's POV $**

There was something about her helplessness that seemed moving; moving me toward her. I probably shouldn't have drank as much as I did, but when you wanna take the edge off of pain you can't really help it. At least not me. Besides, she needed those potions more than I. She looked so sad, and sleep seemed to be the best option for her path to recovery. So I pushed her back and started to tuck her in. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't the reaction I got. After tucking her in I looked over to say goodnight. There she was: laying down, head bent back against her pillow ever so, allowing me a teasing look at her slender neck and round face. If that wasn't enough, she was puckering. Did she assume my intentions weren't pure? Damn. Does she think me a monster to take advantage of a girl who can't fight back? Not that she would with how willing these actions seemed to be. Trying to not be insulted I rose from my leaning position that had been necessary to wrap her securely in the fur and cloth that was thrown over the bed. Her body had been rejecting the cold ever since we got out of that cavern in Helgen. Whoever and whatever she was, it wasn't of Nord heritage. Not enough to help her, anyway. Speaking of Nords, that damn Eirikur can fight, but he has something against her. They must know each other from before. I stopped the foreign feeling of knots and tumbling in my stomach. Paying close attention it would have told me that I was feeling jealous. Which was ridiculous. I barely knew the girl. I knew her so little that I didn't know her at all! And here she was, laying in front of me, waiting for me to take her. Did she think she had to repay me for my family's kindness? With a frustration I'd felt only too many times before, I ignored the burning in my lower abdomen and leaned in close to her face. The faintest trace of potions could still be smelt on her breath; it wasn't the worst thing I ever smelled, but potions aren't always pleasant and this seemed to be the case.

Still, it didn't take away from the effect of the purity -or lack of, I hadn't decided yet- that was still lingering. Focusing on the smell of the potion, which was the only thing at this point keeping me from taking her 'offer', I barely hovered over her lips before gently kissing her cheek. It was warm, soft and smelled like blueberry and jasmine. I didn't think such a smell existed. Blocking out the thoughts of the women I'd 'encountered' throughout my life -even less now from the war- I never had the pleasure of finding these scents together. It was hell to pull myself away from her, the warmth, the smell, the sweetness. But I had my honor, or what was left of it. And I wouldn't be taking her on the off chance she felt obliged to repay me. I didn't feel this was the reason, mostly because of the scar that arrow would leave in her arm. But I didn't want to risk it. I didn't want to sour this moment that was sure to be the only time I'd have an opportunity to feel another woman without the question of chaste coming into the matter. I looked down at her; her eyes were still closed but now outlined the faintest hints of a smile, the same kind of outline that now traced her lips. It was comical: how cute she was. I would cherish this moment. And not let the poison of insecurity and uncertainty blemish the significance behind it. After savoring her touch and burning it into my memory, I slowly recoiled and walked toward the door. Deciding that words would only complicate what just happened- whatever it was- and I wanted it to remain pure, untainted. I looked back at where she lay, unmoved, before opening the door and walking out into the cold to clear my head. This was going to make for an awkward stay. I just hope she doesn't remember any of this. I pushed out the voice in my head that told me only a potions effect could make her this way toward me. But I coukldn't help but feel the painful sting of truth. Nevertheless, I will take this moment for what it is: comforting.

**$ End of Ralof's POV $**

And in the instant it happened: he was gone. She felt she had misread him. She didn't the he would've have kissed her otherwise. 'Maybe it was to be kind and spare her the humiliation and embarrassment of confusing his intentions? Maybe I was so damn sexy he couldn't help himself? Nah, definitely not that last one.' Either way, she determined there was something calming about having his lips so close to hers. The smell of his breath, although strongly smelling of alcohol had a twist of honey sweetness to it that she could only guess was from Honningbrew mead. The heat and humidity of his breath that had tickled her cheek along with his hair left the after feeling of bitter cold. Like someone had placed a steamed cloth on her cheek and lifted it too soon after her cheek was warm the result: a bare and cold feeling of dismay and shock to her senses. She would make sure to remember this, dream or not. She wanted to remember this feeling. She had played it over in her head so many times with men who hadn't been _him_. But it _was him_ this time. She fell asleep with the thought of him holding her. Not bothering to remember anything else except him and the way she always imagined him: mead on his breath, the slight smell of sweat from doing manly and nordic things she knew nothing about. 'Maybe chopping firewood?' Her mind made one last hyper jump before sleep; causing her stomach to knot, her tongue felt limp, the strength she didn't have was even less present in her shoulder than normal and the rest of her body felt like it had been hit with an energy shot before falling limply into what she could only describe as a 'jell-o' like state.

* * *

Once Gemma woke again she was told she'd been asleep for two more days, which at this point, hadn't surprised her. The state of her dreams had been fueled by the last actions Ralof had taken before his convenient departure from the premises. But he was back once more, and was acting like what she expected was normal for him. The days she spent with Gerdur and her family had turned into weeks, and the longer she stayed, the more restless Ralof got. She expected him to be heading to Windhelm, but he never left longer than a couple days, which after viewing a realistic version of Skyrim's map she was convinced wasn't enough to get to Windhelm, report back with the Stormcloak army, fulfill any remaining duties from his absence and ride back. Not only that but he always came back with fresh game. It took a while to get used to the Nordic way of cooking. Gerdur was wonderful at cooking but Gemma wasn't used to unprocessed foods and this made the transition slightly difficult for her. Never having parents home or well enough to cook for you left a lot of time to yourself, which instead of learning to cook, Gemma took it upon herself to scrounge for change and walk to a fast food restaurant. But it only took a few days to get used to it. She soon discovered that unprocessed food had fat in it, which she loathed with a passion and accidentely insulted Gerdur with, in the politest way possible, to let her know. Which she knew she had no right to be picky in someone else's home. But she also didn't want Gerdur to waste food on her that she couldn't stomach. Gerdur was a gracious host, nonetheless, which could only make her feel more guilty about bringing it up, and took heed to her suggestion and from then on cooked her slightly less than the others, but it no longer had fat. Gemma, of course, was completely okay with this since trimming fat gave the affect of a smaller portion. And Ralof chuckled at the amount of food she ate, always commenting and teasing that she had the appetite of a bird. Which she didn't but was too nervous to eat in front of him that she couldn't help but be peckish. This, of course, slowed down her healing process, but she would rather wait longer to heal than pig out in front of people, much less Ralof.

It wasn't too long before her arm healed. Having already been 2 months since Ralof first brought her back to his home village, he was surprised at how her scars were healing nicely even with the lack of potions; which had ran out after the first week.

He was out for a stroll, patrolling, as being in the Stormcloaks had tempered him to do, when he found his sister, Gerdur, waiting for him on the bridge out of town.

"Gerdur, you're out late." He was suspicious of her presence, only because she usually only did this stuff when she had something on her mind.  
"And you're a creature of habit, brother." Her slim nordic build was sitting atop the stone railing of the bridge, she slid off gracefully at his approach. Her face was weathered from the years of hard labor, as much of the rest of her body, but she was tough, and that's the exact impression she left. She looked at her brother in concern. "I know that face." He walked up to the wall where she was now leaning against and sat down next to her lithe figure. "Then you know what's coming." She half smiled sardonically. Ralof knew, alright. He sighed in dismay. "You know my opinion on the war, brother. And you know my concern for you being swept up in it." She started off stern but whatever she predetermined she would say slowly unraveled as her voice got softer and more motherly with each word. "I know." He looked off into the distance, watching the water dance playfully down the stream. "Obviously, you feel responsible for this girl." She started, prodding him to find out where he was coming from. She'd noticed how Ralof always glanced over at Gemma when he was sure no one was looking at him. At least, he thought no one was looking at him.

He now realized that his security in remaining hidden behind his stoic, silent act was nothing more than an illusion. "It's my fault she got hurt." He put it bluntly, worried about what his sister would say next. He hoped she would drop it. But, of course she didn't. "Is that all?" Her voice sounded more knowledgeable than it should have, and its mocking tone caused anger to rise up in his throat "That's all that's important!" he spat back at her. The last thing he wanted to do was open up about his feelings to his sister. "It's not my business who you fall for. But you should really pick a strong nordic woman. Hell, just a woman that's strong. This girl... she isn't strong enough for you. She will destroy you. If only because you can't always protect her. Listen!" Ralof had already scowled and was walking away angrily and dismissive. Ralof stopped and half turned his head, not wanting to acknowledge her more than necessary. "I like her, too. She's nice. But nice won't be able to protect itself or a child. Remember that." and Ralof had started walking again. As much as he tried to not let her words sting him; they left an impact. He couldn't run away from the fact that Gerdur's words had merit. But despite her reasoning it didn't change his mind. Something had happened in the weeks he's spent time with Gemma. There was an odd feeling of belonging. The same feeling he got when he was amongst the safe, Stormcloak guarded walls of Windhelm. Which in truth is part of the reason he hadn't gone back yet. He knew he had a duty to fulfill, and he was honor bound to return. But that didn't mean he couldn't squeeze in as much time as possible with her until then.

* * *

OMG! Gerdur doesn't approve of Gemma! And Ralof seems to be getting attached Poor Gemma.

Also, she seems to be adjusting to the idea of being stuck in Skyrim. Which I can imagine a few weeks would do. Don't mistake her realizing she's stuck as defeat , though! Our Heroine has _way_ too much of a stubborn personality to let this go. n.n


	6. Important Update

I will be adding chapters more frequently now.

These chapters will be more in depth with barely any skipping, if any at all.

I would like to hear feedback from the people reading/following this story.

I will take requests and suggestions for scenarios to put our favorite Skyrim charactesr through.

I am also currently accepting OCs from other people to insert in the story.

Please link me to a properly made profile of your character with some reference links as to the appearance and personality.

I will give credit to anyone that wishes to contribute to this story. Just leave a review or PM me.


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